


Evil Dwarves

by celedan



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, Consort Bilbo Baggins, Established Relationship, Everybody Lives, Fix-It, Fun, Hand Jobs, Husbands, M/M, Naughty Thorin, bagginshield
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:28:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29193828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celedan/pseuds/celedan
Summary: Council meetings are sooo boring. Bilbo almost falls asleep, but is wide awake again when he suddenly finds Thorin's hand in his lap under the table.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Comments: 8
Kudos: 111





	Evil Dwarves

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Intrinsic Fallacy of Wheat](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11029467) by [keelywolfe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe). 



For the umpteenth time, Bilbo felt his eyes droop precariously, and he had to forcibly jerk himself awake again. Discreetly, if possible. It wouldn't do to catch the Prince Consort of Erebor and Ambassador of Foreign Dignitaries sleeping on a council meeting.

Although...

Peeking at his fellow attendees, he realised that they didn't fare any better than him this noon. Balin, though a model diplomat and statesman most of the time, looked as if he was two seconds away from resorting to shoving matches into his eyes to prop up his drooping lids while still trying to look dignified. Dwalin was positioned a little away from the huge table, blocking the door with his bulky frame, but he stood propped onto his battle axe and was sleeping standing up and with his eyes open a little bit although he was actually supposed to protect the king – well, Bilbo supposed it didn't matter as Dwalin was blocking the door completely, and any intruder had to get past his bulky frame, asleep or not.

His heavy gaze straying, Bilbo's eyes came to rest on Kili who seemed to have lost the battle with fatigue without putting up too much of a fight, and was sleeping unashamedly, his head dropped back against the back of the chair and giving off breathy noises that couldn't be considered snores quite yet. If Bilbo would have been seated a little bit closer, he would have kicked him under the table.

Really! That was no proper behaviour for a prince of Erebor!

Next to his brother, Fili on the other hand gave the impression of being a good prince and heir by studiously making notes about what one of the guilds' representatives was talking about up front (although it was rather Ori's job to take notes, who indeed looked very concentrated and eager scribbling away, so and as if he was actually  _interested_ in what was being discussed), but if Bilbo craned his head just so, he could see that Fili was doodling some rude pictures onto the parchment before him, not even trying to cover them up at least a little bit. 

A discrete peek from the corner of his eye told Bilbo that Thorin, aside from Ori, was the only one really paying attention. He wasn't just faking it – Bilbo could tell the difference in the nuances of his husband's moods and expressions by now very well. No. Thorin was actually awake and  _paying attention_ , and he looked as if council meetings where the highlight of his day.

Bilbo just so held himself back from shaking his head uncomprehendingly. He didn't get it. But on the other hand, he didn't want to complain if the King of Erebor showed an interest in his people's concerns. At least one of them who paid attention...

What was the topic again?

Bilbo startled violently, wide awake again in the blink of an eye when he found a heavy, hot pressure suddenly in his lap. He jumped noticeably, but could just so suppress a strangled squeak. He daren't look down with stupidly widened eyes to confirm what he technically already knew: That Thorin's strong hand, sturdy fingers bedecked with gleaming rings whose hard edges Bilbo could feel pressed into the soft flesh of his crotch, had crept into Bilbo's lap.  A quick glance at the king next to him revealed Thorin to be still utterly absorbed in whatever the Dwarf up front was continuing to drone on about, his blue eyes almost wide with (false) innocence.

Oh, what an evil creature his Dwarf was!

Mortified, Bilbo squirmed a bit in his seat, and cast quick, surreptitious glances at the others. He became a little calmer when he realised that nobody had noticed what Thorin had done and Bilbo's jerky reaction to it. Then though, he started squirming because, with the outraged shock slowly fading, his body finally caught up with the fact that Thorin bloody Oakenshield had his huge paw of a hand in his husband's lap.

And slowly started moving said hand!

Just a bit. Just applying some pressure, and moving the wide flat of his palm in slow circles. The heat Thorin's hand radiated onto Bilbo's suddenly oversensitive – and slowly awakening – genitals seemed to intensify, becoming so strong that it felt as if no layers of clothes separated their skin. The hobbit swallowed heavily as he had to suppress a throaty groan. He wanted to slap Thorin's hand away discretely, but he was suddenly too sluggish with mounting pleasure to bring up any strength. His breathing accelerated, and he quickly sat up straight in his chair, placing his elbows on the table in front of him so that he could clasp his hands in front of his face, giving the impression of simply propping his chin up when in reality, his hands in front of his face helped to muffle his heavy breathing somewhat.

Bilbo bit the inside of his cheek when treacherously deft fingers started opening the fastenings of his trousers swiftly to wriggle inside mercilessly.

He almost choked on his own resulting moan which he swallowed quickly, and had to endure Thorin's searing hot hand massaging Bilbo's by now rock-hard length under the protection of the table top. And the Hobbit couldn't even do anything to prevent it lest he gave himself away! Well... not that he actually _wanted_ to stop Thorin from touching him. But he swore to himself; if Thorin caused a scandal with this should they be caught, Bilbo – provided he didn't die of shame – would make sure that Thorin wished he had perished from Azog's blade last year!

All thoughts about getting back at his insolent husband fled Bilbo's mind for good when strong fingers wrapped around his length with almost deliciously painful strength. A shudder wrecked his frame, and he pressed his clasped hands more firmly against his mouth as if trying to hold in any noises threatening to tumble past his lips simply by the force of his hands.

The blasted hand crept lower, and Bilbo caught himself shuffling around in his seat and widening his legs a bit to give Thorin more room when the Dwarf cupped his balls in a much too light, teasing grip, rolling them around in his big hand and kneading them. Soon though, Thorin switched back to Bilbo's member, slowly stroking up and down, up an down, the smooth edges of his rings scraping and digging deliciously into Bilbo's skin. Bilbo had to resist the urge to slip one hand underneath the table to join in on Thorin's ministrations, maybe even retaliate and wriggle his own hand into his husband's lap, but he didn't dare – all his concentration and strength was used up by trying to be as still as possible despite the waves of mounting pleasure racing through every pore of his body. 

An especially vicious stroke upwards while Thorin twisted his wrist finally managed to wring a choked whimper from Bilbo which he quickly tried to mask as a clearing of the throat as several questioning sets of eyes turned to him. He managed a shaky, reassuring smile, but still felt the nephews' (Kili was awake again by now, damn him) scrutinising gazes on his person for a while longer. Oh Yavanna, what when the princes saw what Thorin was doing?! He was going to kill that blasted Dwarf, king or no...

Once more, all thought came to an abrupt stop when Bilbo felt his climax nearing with blinding speed. His body started to tingle, starting in his lower body, and the muscles of his pelvis stiffened in impending release. He felt his balls tighten, and then, a wave of pleasure shuddered through the hapless Hobbit. 

While he came down from his high, Thorin gently stroked him through the aftershocks of arousal until Bilbo finally started squirming away when his flesh became much too oversensitive. Only then did Thorin release him, his hand sneaking to the bunched up fabric of Bilbo's trouser pocket to pilfer the handkerchief Bilbo kept there (and yes, he still used them, no matter how much some of the Company teased him about it; he liked to think that there was still something of a gentle-Hobbit left in him, the rowdy Dwarves hadn't chased that out of him yet to turn him into one of their own, thank you very much), and discretely wipe his hand splattered with Bilbo's pearly seed. At least, afterwards, Thorin had the decency to cover him up again as best as he could one-handed if not using the already soiled handkerchief to clean him up a bit (Bilbo would have to remember righting his trousers before he stood at the end of the meeting if he didn't want to cause the scandal after all).

“What is your opinion on that, your majesty?”

While Thorin's hand quickly withdrew for good, Bilbo, through the fog of lingering, pleasant arousal, needed a moment to realise that it was him who had been addressed by the representative of the guilds – for whatever reason.

“Y-yeah...” he croaked, swallowing heavily, his cheeks flushed to a surely telltale, caught redness while he felt the slowly cooling, uncomfortable stickiness in his trousers all too clearly – he didn't dare meet anyone's eyes, especially the nephews' who would never let him live this down. 

“He agrees,” Thorin provided helpfully in Bilbo's stead, and the hobbit could hear the barely perceptible smug grin in the king's voice.

Oh, how he hated that blasted, brilliant Dwarf!

**End**


End file.
